The Republic Is in Danger – Part 1 the Attack

by Randy Gonzalez

Preface

First in the series of spy adventures, Part 1 begins the saga for a covert redress of grievances.


The darkened room, where shadows knew their place, held close to a sharpened edge of silence. Not the kind of quiet you find among the safe mediocrity of upscale living. Nor was this the dusky soundless earphone shrouded detachment of the overfed, pampered and techno distracted numbness of a generation adrift. Instead, the atmosphere was similar to a postmortem in the aftermath of a disturbing autopsy. Of those present, peering into the shades of grey and black, death was a familiar face. In fact, their profession usually involved a terminal solution.

"Another tragedy, major," the general said grimly. The national news, or something claiming to be news worthy, blathered in the background. Superficial at best, the infotainment embellished foolishly about the cause and effect simplicity. "A shooting at a mall. Fucking domestic terrorists once again. The story repeats itself endlessly to mesmerize the public."

"Yes sir, general, not much you can do to protect everyone all the time," the major answered. She stood behind her mentor stared out the window of the cabin with him. "Let's talk about it," she encouraged. "Review our plan and think about the consequences."

"Precisely," he replied with a whispered breath. "We need to alter our plan."

An unpretentious A-frame styled log cabin sat quietly among the wooded acres in a remoted and secure location near the Great Smokey mountains. An ample expanse of acreage ensured defensible terrain. The safe house was part of a growing network of concerned private citizens. Many among the coalition of various factions were police officers, fire fighters and former military personnel. With each day, more would join up. A rebel alliance slowly evolved secretly ever since 9-11 when more than one enemy attacked the World Trade Center.

"Alpha group wants to call a meeting," the red headed major told him. Fit for the fight, deviously well trained, she made a ruggedly attractive presence. A tough hard working woman, she was fearless and dedicated to her beliefs. "In response to the mall."

"Of course they do," the general, close cropped grey hair, high and tight, like an Army ranger, said with a smirk. He turned and gazed with his steel grey gaze into her eyes. "Thank you for being a good partner, Rosey. You're a true warrior without any doubt."

"You're welcome, my friend," she winked and gave him sly smile. "But, that sounds ominous. I know that tone, Rook. We shared a lot space for a long time."

"We're about to come out of the closet and cross dangerous ground," Rook said. "All the social media, commentary, lobbying and politicking have resulted in little change. In fact," he paused and said after a second or two, "things are getting worse and devolving."

"Regardless, I want you to know, where you go, I go with you, I don't care what the fuck happens," the Georgia peach told him with a syrupy southern drawl. Strapped to the belt of her tight faded jeans, she rested her hand on the butt of her stainless steel Colt .45 pistol. She had two of them, and at least one was always nearby. A face full of freckles, she cocked an eyebrow and her blue eyes sparkled. "Have gun will travel anywhere, side by side, to the end."

"Likewise, my friend, my comrade, my partner. My god you have big guns," he teased with a smile and they hugged for a moment. "We're a good team."

"My guns are real, baby, no after markets here," she teased as well. "Alright, back to the issue at hand. Don't be a pussy about this, let's do it. New action plan, pull out the 'term limits agenda' as we discussed. We'll go to the meeting and listen to what they have to say."

"Agreed." He reached out and they hugged. "The republic is in danger. We must act." He picked up an unlit expense imported cigar and chomped on it. "I don't like open windows." He stood to the corner of the framework. "Yeah, we have an early warning system, but you know how suspicious I am. Anyway, you're right. We need to get organized."

"I know, someone is always watching. I'll send out a signal through back channels," she began as they loosed their embrace. "We'll find neutral ground with trusted confidants and stay off the grid. We don't want to leave any digital footprints. Cloak and dagger renewed."

"Make it so, thank you," Ronin replied to Red, her nickname. "Top secret in all phases."

"Brigadier General Ronin Rook, what's in a name," the peach said in her throaty southern twang with a sensual inviting tone. "A ronin, a lone warrior or knight from ancient times, who knows the essence of pain and suffering, and owes allegiance to no master but an ideal. As to a rook, a castle, even a battlement, a bastion to stand against the enemies in a game we cannot lose."

"It's the only game worth playing, Big Red," he said affectionately to his counterpart.

"Out there," the strikingly attractive red head said and pointed out the window into the darkness. "Some around the parts want you in the game in a really big way."

"Yes, my dearest, there is that. I appreciate the reminder. Most are living a fantasy about what they want to do. But, for now, this moment in time, we agree there are too many billionaires, dirty politicians and robber barons." The general offered. "What will they do in response?"

"They will defend their wealth at any cost," she said without hesitance. "The oligarchs will form alliances with anyone who will do their bidding. There will be betrayals amidst chaos, many will die and the powerful will do anything to survive and ensure their decadence."

"That we must keep in mind," the general muttered under his breath and clinched his cigar. "Nonetheless, it is time for forced term limits and early retirement for the greedy who steal from the people and exploit the resources. The pathology of the American aristocracy must come to an end." He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. "We must get to the action. But what form of insurgency? No matter what, there will be backlash. Retribution will be swift."

"Roger that, sir," Rosey said softly. "Termination by extreme measures. We need a Robin Hood to take the fight to the oligarchies that rob and plunder our country."

"Yes, I agree. The Alpha group wants direct action, you know that, right?" The general said and asked with a skeptical hint, which was part of his persona. "They want rebellion." He shook his head and paced, hands clasped behind his back. "They're imagining some twisted notion of a Hollywood movie script. The reality defies their simplistic thinking."

"Yes they do, but most of them are terribly frustrated by their own lives," the major offered by way of tentative explanation. "I was listening to one of them expound upon the necessity of an armed uprising, a revolutionary style insurrection. He was fascinating, not unlike the UFO group that wants to hasten the alien invasion of the planet. The crazies are everywhere."

"Of course, my dear. We're in the onset of the zombie apocalypse." He pondered her words. "Yes they are, my friend, the armchair commandoes sound brave sitting in the safe mediocrity of their living rooms, or the church pews, or even in academia." The general added an air of boredom. He yawed. "Both side of the social spectrum have their witless untested novices."

"Well, I asked the so-called commander of the Alpha group a few questions," Rosey said and put her arm around his fit and trim waist. We were sitting there down at the local pub having a beer. "After he'd finished his tirade about a conspiracy or two, I just wanted to know one thing. So, I asked, 'how often you get fucked?'" She chuckled. "No sex warps your thinking."

"And, his response was on the low of side of average fucking," the general answered.

"This fat fuck doesn't get fucked on a regular basis," Rosey told him. "That's the real issue, fuck or be fucked. Lot's aspects to that concept, you know?"

"There's part of the problem for the vast majority out there," Ronin picked up on her commentary. "If more people were fucking there be less anxiety and healthier people."

"Frustration mounts the gelded gluttony of amative selfishness," Rosey claimed.

"I like that." The general smiled at her and interlocked his fingers with hers.

"Yeah, took me a moment to pull that one out," she teased him. "Speaking of pulling out." She gripped his waistline attempting to grab a flesh handle, but got muscle instead. "We need to relieve some tension." She squeezed his butt cheeks. "We need our other partner here too."

"Oh yes, my dear," he said and reached behind him to feel her presence.

"When she gets back, we'll wear you out," Rosey promised. "Meanwhile, these various groups are gonna start something. And, we gotta stay above it all, be smart."

"They don't get it," he went back to the topic of rebellion. "This is serious. It's not 1776; this is a whole different era of entrenched bureaucracy with lots of firepower." He rotated to face her and they hugged. "It's a fat, bloated and out of shape populace."

"You're right, you don't march into the nation's capital and take over," Rosey agreed. Rose Big Red Bush, the enticing but thorny mountain woman could fly a helicopter, hunt like a bloodhound, fight like a badger and nearly fuck you to death, wanted to make a point. "We need to be careful, Ronin. A few of these people are on the edge. Some are spies."

"That's a good point, my dear. We're being watched and caution is warranted. A very powerful government, including our brothers and sisters," he started to say. "Many we hold in high regard and served with over the years. We learned that three generations ago."

"The UFO's, the Alpha's, and some of the other factions have a superficial notion of the harsh reality," Rosey continued where Ronin had paused. "A covert plan is preferred."

"Yes," he sighed and took her into his arms. "My love, we will cross a deadly boundary. Those who play video games, get wrapped in Hollywood movies, follow social media with too much credence, well, they've never been in the real world. Most have never served in the military, law enforcement or any other kind of critical public or private services."

"Lots of wannabes. And, yes we will be careful in our planning and execution of the mission." Her blue eyes held his for an eternity of devotion in the blink of a few moments. "Like I said before. Me and you and of course Morticia, the three are bonded. We know these things."

"Speaking of the prodigal warrior," Rook said nose to nose. Her freckles seemed to animate as she rolled her eyes thinking about the other paramour in her life. "My lovely Rose, where is your crazy sister? That wild woman is out there in the shadows and up to something."

"Morbia, Morticia, Mistress of the dark, my other love, Myla," Rosey commented with a sparkle in her eyes. "She's no doubt gathering Intel near and far and probably kicking someone's ass who really deserves an ass kicking. She said she wanted to reflect on the next move."

"Of course," the general accepted. "I sense what she is up to. My ruminations about those admonished not teach false doctrines, or devotion to myths and magic for the sake of personal satiation beyond that which is the greater good for the greatest number."

"Yes, my dearest commander,' Rose, or sometimes Rusty ruminated with him. "I recall one of your lectures at the local community college. She takes you very seriously."

"Sometimes, she goes off the reservation." Ronin stared into the external darkness. "My thoughts when I said that was about the greed, the deceptions and crimes."

"Really? And you think, my darling, that's what I've been doing?" Morticia whispered sensuously from the shadows behind them. Her stealth tactics were beyond conception, as she was the consummate field agent. "I've been doing reconnaissance."

Morticia entered the cabin, bypassing the alarm system, the ground sensors, automated motion sensitive spotlights, and the hidden pan and tilt cameras. To them, she was unique. You could look for her all day long and she would be standing behind you. For the uninitiated, you would never see her coming, or hear her footsteps in the dark, nor observe any traces in the freshly fallen snow. For all intents and purposes, Morticia, or whatever cover name she used, was a ghost.

"Ah, my love, now I know I'm getting old," the general said. "You got me this time. Not half bad for an apprentice still in training," he joked with her and she scoffed.

"Yeah, right. My loves," Morticia sung in a low deep tone, "always keep the watch."

She walked across the room and gave Ronin a hug. Each step calculated to be precise. As Rosey closed in, they embraced as three. For a moment, they were one in unison with each other. They were the sheep dogs who kept the watch. Morticia pulled back and took his cigar he held at one corner of his mouth. He grinned in appreciation of her antics.

Once between her lips, she whipped out a gold lighter. The flame burner had a skull and crossbones across its surface. That signified a bond between the three with the ever-present specter of death nearby. Actually, a multipurpose tool, the flame from it ignited the imported hand rolled tobacco. An expensive smoke, she enjoyed the smell. The aroma filled the room as she inhaled and slowly, with sensuous effect, blew out a long stream. Pouting her lips in a puckered oval shape, she exaggerated the fit of the stogie in the center of her mouth.

"Nicely done, my dear, you're one of kind," Ronin said comfortably to her. "Well, anything we should know for the good of our team? Or, you wanna keep us in suspense."

"You taste good," Morticia said with a smirk as she puffed.

With the walk of a panther, she swaggered to the carved oak bar, where freshly brewed expresso coffee waited. A raven haired beauty, her dark character reflected her olive skinned exotic nature. Where Rosey was peaches and cream, ginger freckled and woodsy rugged, Morticia was Halloween femdom. Her black skin suit, turtle neck sweatshirt and fashionable hiking boots hid the fit muscular features of her overall physical nature. She tossed off her windbreaker, hung it over a bar stool, and revealed the tailored dark brown shoulder holster. Gently, she tapped the butt of her gun. Who knows what that meant, maybe reassurance of something she could count on.

Her S&W, M&P 9mm pistol rested quietly under her left armpit. Naturally, hers was fitted with a threaded barrel. Sometimes, she liked to do quieter work with an attached suppressor. Nonetheless, the redesign of the pistol came courtesy the techs at a place few heard about. Morticia sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. She took in the full aroma of the coffee, and for the briefest of a moment, she closed her eyes. She had her ways and no one disagreed.

"You have to admit," Rosey sparked up. "She's got style, Ronin. Something's coming directly, and I know that look. Brace for impact, this'll upset the apple cart."

"And?" The general and Rosey waited for her response, both smiling at her antics. Her ways were unique, and Morticia could care less what others might think. "This'll be good."

"They want a direct assault on Washington, D.C.," Morticia began with snarl. "Alpha group is dangerous to the cause of saving our country. They will get attention from higher powers and will fuck things up for the rest of us." She licked the edge of the coffee cup. "From my analysis of their data, files, and social commentary, not to forget, their local affiliations, and so forth, they're gonna be a problem." She gripped the cigar with her teeth. "I assessed their intentions and I don't like their motivations or their endless ramblings. We need to distance ourselves."

"We already figured that would be the case," the general answered her.

"That group is far too emotional, which makes them irrational," Morticia went on, crossed the room, slid her arms around Rosey's waist and gave her a kiss. Rosey accepted and kissed her back. Morticia released her and looked into her eyes. "You're right. We need to get laid."

"You know me," Ronin responded swiftly. "I'm always ready for you two."

"We'll see about that," Rosey shot back with a huge grin.

"In the meantime, we put things on hold," Morticia added and began to undress.

"Operation No Billionaires and Special Projects Term Limits goes into temporary suspension," Ronin advised. "We need to focus on the essentials, and sex is the most essential."

"The hell with that group," Morticia said and turned to Ronin. Completely naked and wildly erotic, she reached for his groin and took a handful. "Nice package my love." She squeezed him gently and gave him a fierce look. "My darling, yes, the republic is in danger. In the meantime, every moment of life is vital. I wanna make love to you and Rosey."

"You're right, you're always right, my dear," the general answered holding her gaze.

"Geezus, I'll be hornswoggled, butter my backside and call me a biscuit," Rosey, in her down south style commented and was out of her very tight jeans in a flash. "Holy smokes, with the buildup of tension, my loves, I'd say all three of us needed to bare our souls so to speak." She gave them a sexy grin and moved in for a threesome hug. "It'll relieve the stress."

"I sure like the way you think, Rosey my love muffin," Morticia commented appreciatively. She cupped Rosey's ample breasts, which once free of her bra, hung with well-shaped proportions over her chest. "God, I love your body, so full and delicious, my sweet delight."

"Easy cowgirl, you'll ride me to exhaustion," Rosy muttered with affection.

Slowly, sensuously, and without the slightest hint of hesitation, clothes fell to the floor. Remnants made a trail to the fluffy red rug in front of the fire place. Ripped, muscle toned and glistening with heated perspiration, Morticia's warrior carnality dominated their threesome. Wrapped together, entwined in blissful eternity, they loved each other's essence. Hungrily for their unison, probing and caressing, the unification tasted the depths of their desires. While Morticia mounted Ronin, Rosey suckled Morticia lovingly. Together, they came to the edge. Their freedom, their liberation, and their assertion of inalienable rights came to the summit of their intense sexuality. Of mind, body and spirit, with them carnality merged with wisdom.

Flickering reflections from the fiery rage of the burning logs animated the shadows around them. Locked in furious passion to consume each other, their raging sensuality united in blazing lusty consumption. Nothing restrained them, while their shadows danced a shaded show of unbridled carnality. They held on tightly and let go any thoughts that might restrain their libidinous inclinations. One gave to other freely as to their personal desire for the individuality of unique craving. Licked, sucked, probed and cuddled, orgasmic release came with bursts of mutual joy. As each clutched the satisfaction of climactic culmination, they rested intertwined.

"Geezus, what the fuck, anybody get the number of that freight train?" Rosey spoke first. "I mean to tell ya, talk about plowing a few corn rows. Mercy, that was good." She panted, pulled back from the sweaty embrace, and murmured, "Sex with you two is beyond description."

"You betcha my loves," Morticia moaned lovingly with a pleasurable sigh. "Wow, I think I exploded about a thousand times. Damn baby," she added with a squeeze of Rosey's butt cheeks. "You country gals are really something. I guess milking cows is good training."

"We learn how to milk a lot of things," Rosey gazed at Ronin.

"Whew, with you two, it's always wonderful, so much so, I can't explain the ecstasy," he sighed and held them both with tender care and cuddling comfort. "We become as one."

"A good plow mule always better than a lame horse," Rosey drawled and nestled comfortably in their simmering entangled rapture. "In fact, my furrow has been well-plowed."

"You have such a way of saying things, my love," Morticia sighed with her eyes closed and her arms and legs wrapped around Rosey. She strained a turn of her head and kissed Ronin full on his lips. "Baby, the farmer daughter was right. We needed that. Wow it was all good."

"Yes, my loves, pure loving delight," he replied with a soft breathy exhale, snuggled her from behind and pressed his pelvis into her strong butt cheeks. "The rose bud is always right."

"Okay, I love the way we love together," Morticia said after a brief passage of time. "We always have that. Now, back to the other reality of the way things are collapsing around us."

"We have choices to make," Rosey added and them closer to her. "We'll play again later."

"We've taken oaths, my darlings," Ronin continued and held them both. "Protect and defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. We wrestle with logic and reason against the powerful pull of our emotions. It tears at our passion for serving the greater good."

"No, don't move," Rosey said to Morticia and pulled her tighter. "Let's stay like this a little bit longer. Okay, here's the thing. If we walk down that path toward something called treason, I want this moment to last in my memories. Our fire for each other is strong and wonderful."

"Big Red is right again," Ronin whispered to Morticia. "We're at a crossroad of which only a few can be expected to understand. The five percent who have served country and community, the first responders, the military, and others, we have a call to duty."

"Yes, my dearest," Morticia answered him in a tone that was eerie yet compassionate. Her voice was once again deeply resounding. "But, there is a course of human events, the likes of which presently degrade and demean communal existence. Greed and gluttony threaten civility."

"No doubt about that, big sister," Rosey lamented with a sigh. She rolled to her side to face him with both hands held his face. "Time to fight back, my love. Stupidity is creeping throughout the land and replacing social responsibility for the greater good. Society is collapsing."

"She's right, dear, it's time for an action plan," Morticia whispered.

"I kinda like where this is going," Big Red, Rosey the rose bud, murmured as she wrapped around Morticia and pulled them to her. "I like a good fight as much as I like good sex." She cupped Morticia's big firm breasts and drew in a breath. In a lower tone, she gave a pleasurable hint, a pleasing moan and a few more squeezes here there. "Oh my god, I love it when you're naked. Damn you feel good, like a dew kissed morning on the farm at early sunrise."

"Thanks, honey, I'm not sure how to take that," Morticia chuckled. "Sounds like I'm about to be milked in the barn. Okay, I'm not opposed to anything new and different."

"Baby, I'd love to get you inside my barn," Rosey said sexily. "I'd milk you dry." She glanced at Ronin. "We'd dry him out in no time and wear him out. But, for now..."

"I hate to break up this moment," Ronin interrupted pleasantly as he nestled between them. "As much as I love you two, we need to do some serious analytical thinking. We're on dangerous ground. I had a dream the other night. It was about the three of us."

"You need to tell us, Ronin," Morticia told him and slipped out of bed. As she eased on her black skin suit, she licked her lips watching them naked. In a quick moment, she pulled on her shoulder holster harness. "What's going on? What're ya thinking, pal?"

"Dreams are important," Rosey insisted and gave him a wink. "It's the royal road to the inner reality of who we are. Revelations come from dreamland. That's a given." A natural red head, curly and cutely freckled, she wandered around naked. "Our threesome is unique."

"It was about death," he stated flatly and rubbed a hand over his face and followed Big Red, naked as well. Nudists at heart, most of the time they were in the nude. "Being stabbed in the back, betrayal. All three of us sense things, an alternate perception of reality." He cleared his throat and gazed lovely at Morticia. "I shot at an intruder after our alarm went off, that's part of what I was dreaming about. Finality, something beginning and all the rest ending abruptly."

"We've been sold out before," Morticia sounded with a heavy breath. Back in the living room, she prowled toward the healthy batch of snacks on the bar. Rosey had prepared nutritional snacks, from gluten free to the absence of GMO additives. "Missions aborted, bad intel, incompetent personnel, the list is endless. Yet, that's the nature of the game. We take risks."

"We stay in the fight because we're good at it," Rosey offered with her southern flare. She smiled as Morticia appraised her nakedness with a pleasing visual inspection. "Love you too."

"And, it is the great game, one we cannot afford to lose," Ronin added. All three formed a circle around the coffee bar, drank coffee and consumed black been humus to salad tray fixings, with toasted fish cakes on the side. "It was a dream within a dream, a simultaneous merging of images. Woke up, but was still dreaming, and then woke up after that. Outside us though..."

"Well hush my mouth," Rosey twanged as she peeled a banana and teased them when she slid the tip into her mouth. "You guys." she grinned. "Yep, gets you every time."

"But, you do that so well, my love," Ronin added with a nod. "Anyway, when I thought I was awake, I pulled my gun after I thought the security system activated."

"You're good with your gun, baby, and it's a girthy one," Morticia taunted in a tantalizing way. She licked her lips and munched a fishy treat. "Salmon's good, thank Rosey."

"You betcha, babe." Rose slowly chewed her banana.

"A dream within a dream, I fired a shot down the hallway, and then, nothing, but, here's thing, a ghostly presence revealed itself." Ronin sipped his strong brew of coffee.

"A surreal warning. Treachery abounds everywhere, my dear," Rosey tossed into their discussion. "So, did it say anything? Any mention of anyone in particular?"

"No immediately. With that, we were surrounded and left on our own, rogues being hunted," he told them. "Then, like you said, it muttered in a weird tone, 'it's the beginning, the advent', as though I would who or what it was talking about. Figure that." Ronin shrugged.

"Well, here's the thing," the Georgia Peach threw in the mix. "People getting more stupid by the day. I mean no matter where you go, people don't have the sense god gave a goose. Don't think I've ever seen a time when people so mean, hateful and ignorant."

"And, people who ought to know better," Morticia started, "politicians, pundits and academicians, you know who I'm talking about. Foolish people throwing tantrums."

"Alpha group?" Ronin asked and invited their reaction. "The beginning."

"In my humble opinion," Morticia started to say. "They'd be my first pick. My surveillance of those people, I'd speculate they'd be the first group to make a really dangerous move."

"I think they've been compromised," Ronin added. "Probably a mole or two."

"No surprises there, bet the feds have them closely monitored," Rosey offered.

"Of all the groups, they're the most vocal," Morticia noted.

"Agreed," Ronin confirmed. "However, they are the most dangerous. Their more radical elements stir up chaos, not serious fact drive debate. The riot they have instigated have produced property damage, death and destruction and no credible resolution to serious issues."

"Yep, pretty much, they're just looking to act out their shortcomings," Rosey suggested and looked Ronin up and down. "Damn, you look good naked." Her forehead wrinkled slightly while she puckered a salacious grin. "You getting big again? Wanna get back in the saddle?"

"You betcha, hot stuff." Ronin slanted a wicked gaze at her. "We can take turns stripping Morticia. Spend all evening naked and just taking turns with each other."

"Okay you two, let's get back on track here," Morticia said fondly to them.

"Morticia, you infiltrated them, I don't trust them," Ronin switched tempo. "My altered unconscious I think refers to them." He went on, "In the dream state, it was a bleak landscape, fires everywhere, like an apocalypse. Stark, the setting was an uninviting dim horizon, a burnt orange essence of reddish sunlight. We were in an open area, not unlike a vacant mall parking lot. Others surrounded us." He slowly sipped his coffee. "I've been working on the meaning." Ronin hugged Rosey and put his arm around Morticia for a moment. His fingers trailed down Rosey's naked back, stroked her butt and squeezed the crease of her ass. "An ambush."

"Interesting," Morticia commented and reached for more coffee. "We got caught in an ambush? You know we anticipate everything. We are way too cautious for that. We pick our battles carefully. And, we enjoy top tier intelligence from our network of partners."

"We're being watched, that's a given in our business," Ronin continued. "To have advance knowledge that a group wants to attack the seat of government is dangerous information. On top of that, who might they suspect other than the moles the Feds try to plant?"

"They are vulnerable because of their stupidity," Rosey continued. "They'll hit first."

"That among other things," Ronin lamented with a sour expression. "We're a devolving culture." He slowly crossed the room as though he had sensed something. Rosey and Morticia licked their lips in unison. They enjoyed watching his movements. "The end times are upon us, the human race faces extinction. It's not a race by any stretch of the imagination."

"People have about a hundred years left," Rosey completed the rest of his sentence.

"Stupid is the expression of willful neglect of duty, devotion and discipline for the greater good," he continued and smiled at both of them. "Unfortunately, the trendy memes of the day are filled with negativism and divisiveness, condescending themes that attack our heritage."

"So much for pulling together, regardless of ideology or differences," Rosy added and picked up one of Ronin's cigars from a humidor on the bar. She put it between her lips and lit it. A few puffs and she went on, "Demonize the president, tear up the constitution and degrade our history in a demeaning simple minded revisionist perspective of horse shit."

"Which is worse, horse shit or bullshit?" Ronin teased her and she winked at him.

"Puddles of bovine excrement," Rosey drawled with her southern charm. "With cow pies, you got fertilizer, top soil, fuel source or fly food. Plus, you got little wake up calls for city folk who don't watch where they're stepping." She reached out and playfully gave Ronin's penis a few jerks. "Gotcha baby. It's where a stump tailed cow has a busy day when hordes flies show up." She reared back a tad with a smirk filled gaze. "Horse shit is worse, can't do much with it."

"I kinda like that analogy," Morticia chuckled, elegantly sipped her coffee and smiled at her. "As regards our current horse shit mainstream, the immediacy of the situation is upon us. Of course, we take corrective action because we know how to do it, and we know what we're doing." Morticia asserted, muttered confidently, and her tone demanded action. "We fight the corruption and the incompetence. Extreme measures are warranted now."

"And, we fight for the oppressed and the weak, that's what heroes do," Ronin advised. "Yes, a redress of grievances is a constitutional right, while protestors left and right assert that." He gave Rosey a kiss on the cheek, and spotted a salmon cake which he speared with a fork. His glance connected with them, eye to eye, as he added, "We need to be alert and cautious."

"But, the course we take must be very dark," Rosey pointed out and smoked her cigar while she sipped the hot black coffee. "We're gonna get dirty, my loves, real dirty."

"What the fuck," Rosey cut her off. "Security panel is chirping, darlings." In the blink of an eye, naked and armed with her Colt .45, she went to the hallway monitoring system. Pressing a concealed button behind a movable light switch and the wall panels separated. "External perimeter is active. Standby, ground sensors detecting movement in the woods."

"Ground sensors, down by the dock at the river," Morticia said instantly as the alarm went off across the room where Rosey stood. "They came by boat, how creative. Didn't think they had the imagination for that. Most likely the Alpha Group." She had her 9mm Beretta pistol in her hand quickly. "We have an intrusion." She eased toward the panel where Ronin was standing with Rosey, as naked as she was. He had his Glock .40 pistol. "All monitors at full alert," She noted and inspected the recessed display. "Our security systems are up and fully operational."

"Guns up, my loves," Rosey added holding her .45 at her side, she accessed the control panel and punched in a code. "Gonna silence the noise makers and keep it real quiet like."

"Interior lights going black," Ronin told them. In the next few seconds, without skipping a beat, he and Rosey were in camo attire and combat booted for action. "You think Alpha, huh?"

"Yep, that's the buzz on the street. And, they kept harping about doing an assault on the nation's capital," Morticia groaned. "My god, they keep talking that nonsense. And, now this?" She began to fume. "We'll need to watch them carefully and be ready from now on."

"They're angry, upset and discouraged by the current state of politics," Ronin said. "They claim to be anti-fascist, yet everything they do, from rhetoric to demonstrations speaks fascism."

"Well, now they're about the get shit kick of 'em," Morticia snarled again. She headed for the basement door. "I'm going dark. Gonna access the escape hatch and meet them halfway."

"You wanna be backup, or basecamp?" Ronin smiled at Rosey when he asked that.

"I'll do basecamp, keep the place operational," Rosey said with a wink. "You two watch your lovely asses out there." She adjusted a comm-link to her ear. "Testing, one, two, three."

"Roger that, we got ya," Ronin answered, as he and Morticia tested their comm-links.

"Night goggles, love," Morticia urged Ronin and handed him a set of green specialized spectacles. She glanced at Rosey. "Interfacing glasses with comm-link." She pulled on a pair of skintight black gloves. "Okay baby, you stay safe in here. Shoot anything that ain't us."

"How many we got?" Ronin wanted to know the number of intruders.

"My loves," Rosey started to say. "Looks like thirteen. Squad sized. Infrared on full three sixty. They're holding a close pattern, clustering in a pack. Two boats at the shoreline." Intently, her sky blue eyes scanned the mini-monitors. "A wolf pack on the run, baby."

"Those assholes brought the fight to us," Morticia grumbled. "I'm gonna fuck them up. Wolf pack. We are wolf hunters, these idiots forget about the sheepdogs."

"Of course, they always forget about those who keep watch. Well, when this is over," Ronin speculated with a sigh and a frown. "We know some of these people. We'll need to think about how we're gonna negotiate this with the sheriff, and keep it out of the news."

"That's your job, love," Morticia said with a smirk. "You're the politician."

"Bullshit, you're gonna get it for that," he laughed. "Bound and gagged."

"Promises, promises," she taunted and led the way to the basement. "Let's kick ass."

"Okay, stay sharp, don't piss me and I have to come to the rescue," Rosey added.

"Roger that, sweetie, and keep that pie warm," Morticia agreed and blew her a kiss.

In a flash, as if ghosts, the pair vanished. Down the rabbit hole into the darkness of the night, the blackness of the fight, they blended with the surroundings. Seconds later, a muffled tube on her pistol, a k-bar on her belt, Morticia stalked her quarry. The huntress was on the watch for the game to unfold. Hunting humans is what she did well, for the kill she was an expert.

"Specter One," Morticia tapped Ronin on the shoulder and whispered. "I'm gone."

"Roger that, Specter Two," he whispered back. "Flanking maneuver."

"Assholes," she muttered in the underbrush under her breath in reference to the intruders. "They're making too much noise." She shook her head. "They might be duck hunters, but they're not warriors, and they definitely aren't in shape for this kind of stuff. What the fuck, they can kill an unarmed animal, but a human target, well that's a whole different game."

"Hold on, I gotta take a piss," a fat one said, laboring to keep his breath under control and lingered behind. "Go, I'll catch up. Go on man, we got the element of surprise." He chuckled fatly and pulled down his zipper. "Yep, these pussies are gonna fucked up."

"You call that a penis, fat boy," Morticia whispered from behind as the porky one pulled out a stubby fat dick. "Why, my goodness, little thing like that ain't much of a threat."

"What the fuck!" the pork rind blurted and struggled against the sudden attack.

But, his portly protests were futile. She muffled his utterances with a gloved hand, followed by a swift move that clamped a special kind of tape over the assailant's mouth. The portly lad couldn't speak, while his muted cries were effectively stifled. As he began to gag, Morticia drove a steel stiletto black from the base of the skull into his brain. Heavily, like a rag doll the attacker slumped backwards. Effortlessly, she eased him to the cold damp ground.

"Shh, fat boy, there ya go, just lay down for an eternity." In the darkness, she smiled over her handiwork. "Geezus, can't imagine you fucking anybody with that limp dick." She grinned as she slipped invisibly into the surround foliage. "You won't fight anymore today."

"Alpha Watch to Alpha 2," Rosey signaled from the cabin's command console. With keen interest she watched, as their stealth drone hovered overhead. "Nice work on that one, his partner is coming back your way, on the same path. Alpha 1, you copy that?

"Roger that, Alpha Watch," Ronin answered and continued his invisible status.

"Porky?" the thin intruder whispered from a distance. "What the fuck, man?" Making enough noise to eliminate stealth, the thin man returned. "What the fuck, you dead or what?"

The thin man, gaunt and angular, blurted an inconvenient oof, as he stumbled over the body. At the same instant, the she-devil watched from the shadows completely hidden by her incredible stealth ability. Crawling on all fours, his weapon on the damp leafy underbrush, his camo pants were stained red while he knelt beside the corpse. Still warm, with the smell of metallic hints in the air, the blood had already oozed around the face and neck. Mere seconds, maybe even minutes had gone by, and the tubby thug met a sure and swift judgement.

Underneath, the ground welcomed the nutritious sampling of the soon onset of decomposition. The beached whale of a carcass rested face up with a stare of stark horror. When he noticed the display of the kill, he jerked as if having a spasm. Fat boy's commando trousers were down around his ankles. His penis and scrotum were cleanly severed as though taken by a terribly swift razor sharp sword. The thin guy went speechless with a mirrored look of horror.

Gasping, unable to maintain any sense of sneakiness or surprise, skinny man gasped and gulped for air. Furtively, his head whiplashed from side to side, as if looking for an assailant to come out of the pitched darkness. Panicked, on the brink of whimpering, the thin man pulled back, as if to avoid touching the dead man. His tiny cries brought to the surface of mind the harsh reality of life. Such were the poignant realities of television commandos and real-world warriors.

"Hey, buddy," the skinny guy's voice stammered weakly and echoed through the chilly breeze. As if the realty was like the movies, this wasn't real. "Oh god, oh god, come on, stop playing around, man." He cried and shook. "You gotta catch up, we're running late on this, let's go." He froze. "Oh my god how could they do this? No, no, no...."

"You pussy," came the sound of her voice, an avenging angel from the blackness of moral retribution. And thud, a quick shocking blow to the back of the head, stunned him, while her kick knocked him flat on the cold hard ground. "On your knees, judgement time."

For a moment, he thought he'd confronted a monster, a green-eyed harpy, something out of horror movie. Maybe it was one of those aliens. He blinked with fear. The face was painted green, and the eyes burned with the kind of terror that made nightmares real. The slender man could not move. His expensive exotic looking rifle, customized and adorned with a night laser scope, lay nearby in the brush. She now had his exotic commando survival knife in her hand. The pistol he practiced daily with, was tucked in her gun belt. Efficiently, the teeth and claws of the pit bull were neutralized. Very slowly, the realization this quarry was gonna fight back seeped inside the limited cerebral pathways. His inexperience and hesitance invited death. End Part 1...more to come...

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